


While My Guitar Gently Weeps

by tisfan



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Jealousy, M/M, Musicians, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17178086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Tony hears that Bucky's playing guitar as a way to date girls...Bucky's never asked Tony to come listen to a show, either...





	While My Guitar Gently Weeps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justanotherpipedream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherpipedream/gifts).



> For the Prompt: Winteriron + Bucky decides to start a rock band in order to seduce Tony, only to have his plan backfire. Who knew that Tony was that good at keyboard? [aka Bucky tries to seduce Tony with his guitar skills, but gets seduced by Tony instead

“Yeah, well, I mean, you’ve seen ‘em, right Steve?” Clint waved his cup around dramatically, only barely missing Tony with the splash of coffee, which would have been bad for his look (wet was only appealing in some specific cases, like when he went to the beach) and would have been particularly bad for his mood (under caffeinated.)

“Seen what?” Tony wondered. He pulled a chair out from the little table out in the quad. He had managed to get coffee but hadn’t yet had a drink.

“All of-- everyone!” Clint said. “Lining up to get a gawk at the guitar-playing heartthrob.”

Steve snickered. “Back in the day, he used to play the accordion. Which was not sexy and getting the girls.” His face fell. “He still got them all, though. Not sure what it was. Certainly not those shorts he used to wear.”

“Bucky’s just cool,” Tony said, waving it off. 

“Well, it’s not the broken-boy effect,” Clint said. “Otherwise, I’d be swimming in choice dates.”

“Is he?”

“Is he what?”

“Swimming in choice dates,” Tony said. He wasn’t jealous. Not really. Just because Bucky happened to be the most gorgeous guy on campus. And nice, he was really nice. And everyone liked him. And he was popular. And Tony was totally not worried that Bucky would start dating someone and they’d be totally cute all over campus. That wasn’t going--

“... and Sharon, and Misty, and Nat… and… oh, what’s that rainbow girl’s name, you know, the one that flies?”

“Karo’s not interested in Bucky,” Steve said, firmly. “No one’s interested in Bucky, they just like watching him play.”

“Well, not no one is interested in Bucky,” Tony mused. 

“Why, do  _ you  _ want to date him? That broody, broken-boy, musician, long hair thing? That appeals to you?” Clint wondered.

“Well, it doesn’t not appeal to me,” Tony admitted.

“Why is he the way he is?”

“What? Charming?” Tony asked.

“No, I mean, the broody, tough-guy schtick. Why is he the way he is?”

“Decades of torture, I would imagine,” Tony said. “Why are you the way you are?”

“A human dumpster fire?” Clint responded. “For the attention.”

“You should probably work on that.”

“Bucky should stop playing guitar to get hot dates,” Clint said. “He makes the rest of us look bad.”

Tony rolled his eyes, shook his head, and worked really, really hard to ignore Clint for the rest of his break. If the human dumpster fire act was to get attention, the least Tony could do was not give him any. On purpose.

***

“Hmmm,” Tony said after the last ringing notes died down and before Bucky could get that bourbon-sweet voice of his going again to introduce another song. “Not bad, not bad.” He clapped, and the rest of the crowd -- well, it was never much of a crowd, really. Bucky really needed to get a manager to start getting some gigs -- clapped along with him. 

Bucky barely raised his chin. It kept his hair in his face, which was important, and even better, kept him from staring, open mouthed, at Tony Stark like a hungry baby bird. “Thanks,” he said to his shoes.

The small group of students dispersed, leaving Bucky standing there, admiring the tops of his own shoes and how one lace was untied, and the ragged hole in the knee of his jeans, with Tony Stark, who looked immaculate as always, even if the tail of his button down shirt was hanging out and he had a smudge of grease on one cheek.

“So, who’s the lucky girl?” Tony asked. He gave the impression that he was leaning idly against something, without actually moving from the open spot where he was.

Bucky wondered how Tony did it, always the center of attention wherever he went, managing to accomplish the impossible with a dumb idea and a witty one-liner. How impossibly beautiful the man was, how clever and brilliant, and at the same time, maintaining a rolling flood of dialogue that was all funny, sweet, and illustrated just how much he paid attention to things. From making disparaging comments about Fury not being able to see all the info screens to making a scrolling light display that tracked eye movements so Fury could do his job, better, faster, all without ever drawing it to anyone’s attention.

Bucky noticed.

But that was because Bucky was hopelessly in love with Tony Stark.

Which was stupid, because the best he could hope from Tony was tolerance. Bucky wasn’t special. He was a broken, used up weapon that got discarded as soon as he was malfunctioning. Like trash. 

“Uh? Which girl?”

“Well, I suppose you can do that, too,” Tony said. “What’s your name little girl? I mean, do you have  _ groupies _ ?”

“No,” Bucky said. Bucky scowled at the sidewalk. Tony was being kind of mean, actually. Almost hostile, really, and Bucky had no idea why. 

“Oh, well, I was just wondering who it was,” Tony said. “Clint said you were playing guitar to get girls, and I was just… does that work?”

“I play guitar because I like to,” Bucky said, hotly. He managed to get his chin up and glare at Tony. “I practice a lot and I’m good at it, and… I ain’t  _ showing off _ . I ain’t trying to  _ get girls _ . People who play musical instruments just to show off are total tools. And a  _ real  _ musician can always tell the difference. If people like watching me play-- are you  _ jealous _ ?” 

Everyone always said Tony’s ego was bigger than the Stark Tower. Bucky hadn’t thought so, but maybe that’s why Tony was being so cruel, because he was mad that people were standing around listening to Bucky?

“Yeah, maybe, cupcake,” Tony said. “Maybe.”

Bucky watched him walk away, confused and resentful.

***

“Stop moping,” Steve said. “It’s  _ Tony Stark _ , you’re not missing out on anything. I mean, everyone knows he’d rather look at himself in the mirror than a date anyway. How many people on this campus have dated him.  _ Once _ ?”

“Enchantress, Jack, Pepper, Nat, Loki, pretty sure he’s randomly said I love you to--” Clint was already counting off on his fingers, and Bucky resisted the urge to throw something at him.

“God, you’re such a jerk, Clint.”

“Making him jealous didn’t work,” Clint protested. “That’s not my fault!”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Bucky complained. “I was just saying, he never comes to my shows, so…” He’d wanted to impress Tony with his ability to do something that wasn’t related to guns. Maybe if Tony had come to a show, Bucky would dig into his repertoire of love songs and sing something heartfelt and meaningful, with specific lyrics and stare at Tony for the whole song, and maybe, maybe Tony would take pity on him and at least let him go on the one date. Just being in Tony’s presence was like sitting in the sun, and Bucky needed that on his cold, dark heart.

“It got him to go to one of your shows, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but now he’s mad at me,” Bucky sighed. He stared up at the Tower, wondering where Tony was inside that vast building.

“If he’s mad at you for something someone else said, then he doesn’t deserve you, pal,” Steve said. 

“I should--” Bucky squared his shoulders, like he was getting ready to face a firing squad. “I should tell him that.”

Behind him, as he stalked off toward the Tower, he heard Clint wondering, “is he going to tell Tony he likes him, or is he going to tell Tony that he doesn’t deserve him?”

***

Jan lounged on top of the piano. Tony might have protested the possible damage to his mother’s Steinway, except Jan was in her tiny form, and therefore about as heavy as a Barbie doll.

“You really ought to play for other people, sometimes, Tony,” Jan said. “All this talent, and it’s just wasted.”

“Bucky said--”

“Oh, dear god, here we go again,” Jan said, rolling her eyes. “Did he say something mean? I will totally rip that arm of his off and beat him with it if he said something mean.”

“No, he just said, people who play to show off… that real musicians could tell.”

“So?”

“I didn’t know he  _ wasn’t  _ showing off,” Tony said. “So, I guess I’m not a real musician.”

“You’re giving me whiplash with that logic,” Jan pointed out.

“I screwed it all up,” Tony admitted, finally. “I just… I wanted him to tell me who he was playing for, so I’d at least know who my competition was. Or if I was even high enough on the consideration list to  _ have  _ competition. I don’t think he likes me at all.”

“Anyone who thinks you aren’t perfectly delightful isn’t worth your time.”

“Did you really threaten Zemo because he said my face wasn’t perfectly symmetrical?” Tony wondered. That had been sweet of Jan, and kinda scary at the same time.

“You’re a beautiful man,” Jan told him. “And you deserve someone who appreciates that.”

Tony’s fingers slipped over a few notes and he played several minutes without interruption, bits of Mozart and a bit of jazz mingled in with Billy Joel. Jan sung along with him when he got to  _ Piano Man _ . He played one half of a duet that his mother had once accompanied him on, aching as he remembered Maria’s hands, showing his tiny toddler fingers where to go. Playing piano was the only time he really felt close to her at all, and even that fragile connection was more than he’d had with Howard.

“What do you think I should do?” Tony asked, finally.

Jan shrugged. “Ask him to play  _ with _ you?”

“Oh, yeah, like that’ll work--”

“You never know til you ask,” Bucky said from behind them.

Tony did not practically fall on the keyboard and make a horrible snarl of music and if anyone said he did, he would deny it.

“How long have you been there?” Tony demanded, his voice spiralling up.

“Long enough.” There was a softness in those ice blue eyes, and a tentative smile tugging up the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll… uh… just be going, then,” Jan squeaked, shrinking down to maybe an inch and buzzing off like the Wasp she was.

“So, uh… do you want to, how the cool kids say it,  _ jam together _ ?” Tony tried looking suave and suspected he was failing miserably.

Bucky pulled his guitar off his back and settled in on the stool nearby. “What key is this in?”


End file.
